Nameless
by Shy-Shadow Reckless
Summary: A lot of transgenics never had names, they died before they got one. Alec finds choosing a name for anyone is difficult, especially if that person is already dead
1. Chapter 1

Don't own em, never will. Seems to be a recurring trend in my life.

Nameless

"Seriously, no matter what they tell you it's all about sound." 528 said animatedly.

"Sound?" 494 repeated.

"Everything's louder out there and has more layers." 528 said. It was dark and 494's unit was sitting up talking, or rather listening to 528 and 603 talk about their first away mission.

"It's not about sound." 603 interrupted. Behind his back 528 pulled a face, something she'd learned on the outside 494 guessed.

"Yes it is." She'd insisted. "When we arrived that's all I could think of, how noisy it was out there."

Alec glared at the barred door, it was at times like this he agreed with 528. All he could think of was the noise outside. The noise of the crowd outside Jampony talking, discussing how they should die.

No matter how hard she tried 528 couldn't get up. Something was very wrong she realised as she moved her hand from her stomach. Her blood was sticky and black and she felt so cold. 494 and 603's faces wavered in an d out of focus. They seemed worried and X5s shouldn't be worried. "I should tell them that." She said drowsily.

494 and 603 looked at each other over 528's head. "Liver?" 603 said.

494 didn't need to look again to make sure. "She's dead." He said shortly. "Orders are to retrieve all casualties, even KIAs." 803 nodded, even though he was technically in charge of this mission, it felt better having 494 make the decision. 494's face softened as he looked back at 528 who had closed her eyes, not long to go. "I'll carry her."

After that day 528 never reappeared. The others in her unit had to pretend they didn't care. But for the longest time they left a spot for on parade. It didn't matter that they did, a new soldier arrived to fill it. 528.

Alec watched Max through half-closed eyes, pretending to be asleep. It was too hard to feign, Logan was talking about Eyes Only again. Alec had never told Max that was one of the reasons the X5s of his unit had been less than friendly to her. She'd taken 528's place and she was no 528. "I wonder what name she would have chosen," he mused, straightening in his chair when it sounded like Logan was winding down.

Even though Alec had considered the meeting counterproductive Max declared it otherwise and dismissed them. It didn't bother him though, he had no commitments for at least an hour so he could do as he liked. As Alec wandered back to his apartment, he started thinking of what name he would have given to 528. The problem was, the only names he could think of were taken. Gem would have been okay, something sparkling and valuable. He pushed past Lucky on his way. Might have done at some stage, but it would have been a bad joke to call her that now.

"Something upsetting you pretty boy?" Mole asked gruffly, hiding a thin level of real concern.

Alec broke into a grin. "Nah, just thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself."

If it had been anyone else Alec would have had a retort ready, but since it was Mole he let the comment slide. "Anything that really needs to be discussed?" he asked.

"Mostly the same old complaints." Mole replied. "Food water, medical supplies."

"And cigars." Alec added. "Can't forget those.""

"Got that right." Mole gazed adoringly at his now much larger gun collection, while smoking one of the mentioned cigars. "Some more weapons and ammunition wouldn't hurt either."

"I'll see what I can do." Mole just nodded, probably to indicate he was free to go now.

Mole watched the X5 walk away, narrowly avoiding walking into people. If It had been anyone else, Mole wouldn't have cared it they were depressed. But Alec? Everyone looked to the guy to see how to behave. "Otherwise we'd be stuck with her highness and her ordinary for an example." Mole allowed himself a small grimace.

Alec made it to his home unchallenged still thinking of names. "Sparkle?" 528 had always seemed to shine. But Sparkle would be shortened to Sparky and it wouldn't suit her at all. Alec started sifting through his extensive vocabulary searching for the perfect word. "She loved sounds." He remembered. "Pitch, Chord. Hertz." He shook his head. "Not quite."

He wandered around picking up what few objects there were, hoping for inspiration. Something unidentifiable clicked in his memory. Watching 528 sample something on an away mission. Something someone had insisted they try. "Taffy." He remembered breaking off a piece and not knowing the right words to describe what he was tasting. 528 had lit up and the good Samaritan would accept no payment, not that they'd had any to offer.

A spider had spun a web above Alec's bed, which triggered another memory. They had been marching for a long way, he wasn't even positive where they were anymore. Setting up camp for a break, 603 and 528 had discovered a spider spinning a web. The pair of them had stared at it until finally he'd had to order them to get some sleep. He'd stood watch for a few hours and found himself fascinated by the web as well. He knew it was a trap, a lure for a carnivore, but still. "Isn't it pretty?" 528 asked softly.

He hadn't felt her get up to stand behind him. "It's just a web." He said.

"But look." She'd insisted. "The patterns the lights. It's dangerous, but it's so beautiful." 528 stretched out a hand to almost touch the thin strands. "Like us."

Only 528 could have seen the similarities between a spider's web and an X5. Figures. Now he was stuck with comparison. "What's another word for web?" he wondered aloud. "Gossamer." He pulled a disgusted face. "There goes that idea."

"Talking to yourself?" Original Cindy asked.

Alec frowned, he hadn't noticed her arrive. "What?"

"You were just talking and there was no one to listen."

"Just thinking out loud."

Original Cindy looked concerned. "You alright?"

"I'm always alright." He said automatically. He didn't even think when someone asked that question anymore, his vocal chords kicked in and he gave the answer

Cindy didn't look convinced, but seemed willing to let the matter slide. "Riker is looking for you, something to do with new arrivals."

"I'm getting to it." he said. "Tell him I'll be there in an hour."

"Sure." Original Cindy almost said something else then, but chose not to. "Later."

Alec stretched out on the bed staring up at the web and the cracks in the ceiling. 528 had always seen things in a very different light than everyone else. But she managed to persuade you that her strange views made sense. Like her opinion on butterflies. Most that Alec had wheedled the information out of admitted that butterflies were delicate and sort of pretty. Not 528, she thought they were downright creepy.

"Honestly 494, they are." She insisted.

494, for he wasn't Alec then, looked sceptical. "How so?"

"All those legs, the flying right at your face and where do they go at night? I'll tell you where, they crawl across your face in the middle of the night."

494 didn't have a reply. "Spiders have lots of legs." He offered as a weak argument.

"Spiders have webs and that's where they live." 528 said defiantly. "You can't win 494, butterflies are just evil. I think anomalies have butterfly DNA and that's where the mistakes come from." 528 folded her arms across her chest. "And they taste with their feet, that's just wrong."

"Anomalies?"

528 gave him an 'are you insane?' look. "No, butterflies."

There wasn't much in Alec's apartment. But hadn't thought there was much to see in the barracks. Beds became enemy soldiers to be pounced on when she was very young, any unlucky enough to be in the bed when she did were collateral damage.

Pillows were ammunition to wielded against the unwary. Walls were patterned with pictures that 528 would describe to them all. Alec wasn't sure when 528 had lost the ability to imagine so easily. One day 603 had teased her about abed being an enemy soldier and she had given him a pitying look, she had moved on. If she saw anymore pictures on the walls she'd never told any of them about them. It was a sad day the day he realised she didn't daydream anymore.

He worried about her when she was outside. When Max had told him about Ben he'd nearly panicked, in some ways 493 and 528 sounded similar. Would his little 528 have turned crazy too? She'd been watched very careful after an officer had found out about her pretend games. Alec found himself glad sometimes that 528 had never had to find out if she could live out here on her own.

She had infiltrated a school once, she'd told them all about the students there, about how slow they were, her voice tripping and bubbling as she tried to fit everything in. In whispers she told them she'd left her friend out of her report. Her friend Susie. Susie who befriended her even though the popular kids thought she was strange. The girl who had invited her to her birthday party. Then their unit had known about birthdays. 528 hadn't cared that she didn't have one, but 603 had been upset. 528 told him that his birthday could be the third of June, like his designation.

Alec had put a stop to the conversation then. He knew it was dangerous to let her talk about the better thing that were outside.

Would 528 have named herself after Susie? He'd seen 603 and 803 had kept his birthday as the one she'd given him. 603 had called himself Deuce, a nod to the fact that he was just one of a set. Deuce had fared okay on his own, although he had been extremely pleased to see him. Alec had forgotten what it was like to see someone who was unconditionally pleased to see him. Didn't want a phone call later, didn't want anything done, had just been happy he was there. Deuce had also learned to hug on the outside.

Deuce didn't mention her at all. There were only little pieces of her left behind in the way Deuce said things sometimes. It wouldn't be much use bringing up the idea of what 528 would have called herself with Deuce. It was a cruel game to play, Alec knew, but somehow important to figure out. He'd finally worked out the importance of a name and sometimes regretted that he hadn't chosen his own. Max had become a friend, but he would have liked a real friend to have chosen his name so it was a gift. Names should be a gift, Alec decided, so the person knows that they are a gift too.

She caught him once, when he'd fallen. Stretched out a helping hand when she shouldn't have. Risked punishment for him, ignored the fact that he'd tried to shove her away and held him up. He could barely walk then, had hurt so much that he'd just let her carry him along, his arm slung over her shoulder. The corridor had never seemed so long as it had that day. Alec couldn't remember if 603 was there, his memories of that time were hazy and confusing. He just remembered her being there, something that wasn't steel or sharp, for the first time in months he'd considered trusting someone.

She was a light in the dark in that moment, guided him to a bunk, helped him sit. She'd tried to hide her frown over his injuries, the worry. No one had given a damn about his well-being for so long that he only watched her. Right then she was the hope that things could possibly get better, that he could get better.

Alec frowned, Hope wouldn't have suited her, or Faith. Their unit hadn't believed in much. Sunny? Alec thought about the dark places they'd all seen and rejected it. 528 had always sort of preferred the shadows anyway, lurking on the edges of what was happening. Never too comfortable standing out, but being unable to hide her own brilliance. He had no doubt that 528 had inspired many ordinary soldiers covered in blood and dirt, simply by being there. 603 had been put on report for beating up an ordinary soldier that he'd caught staring at her while she was sleeping. The soldier had claimed that she was a muse, poetry, a sonnet. Deuce and Alec had agreed that he was a lunatic.

Although the soldier had been right, Muse, Poetry or Sonnet could have been her name. But Alec refused to let 528 have anything that the soldier had thought of her. He hadn't like the way the man had looked at 528 at all.

Alec moved to his window staring out at a rainy day. He vaguely recalled being told that it rained an amazing amount of days in Seattle. The falling drops bounced on the edge of the window outside. He didn't really have a memory of 529 that involved rain. Overcast days, sunny days, but not rain.

He'd seen her wet, emerge dripping from the tank, or wander in to the barracks hairs still damp. But he'd never seen her standing in the rain. Part of the cat in the cocktail he guessed, maybe she hated being wet, hated the rain. Deuce would have been the one to ask, possibly one of the many secrets he'd kept for 528. All of them had their secrets, conversations and memories that they fought to keep for themselves. A tiny piece of private life in the public arena that was Manticore.

Rain was meant to be a name too, and there were many names for rain. Downpour, drizzle, shower, mist. Misty could be a name too. Something that concealed things, but could sometimes be seen through like glass. Mist shrivelled up and dies in the sunshine, just like she had.

It was hard to choose a name for someone who was dead. Harder than for someone who was alive and there to offer their opinion about it.

AN: Well? I've got two endings planned for this. Read and review if you feel so inclined.


	2. Chapter 2

Nope, still don't own 'em.

Nameless

Friends were something you had outside Manticore's walls. Soldiers were either in your unit, or you worked with them sometimes. You never called them friend. Most of the X5s that Alec would have considered friends were dead. Most of his unit hadn't made it either. Their numbers had been whittled down for most of his life, some lost in battles, some at the inexpert hands of ordinary doctors who didn't understand what they had lying in front of them. Things used to treat ordinaries could be lethal to a transgenic if you didn't know what you were doing. The fire had just stolen the most of his unit at once. Alec couldn't remember what his last words to some of them had been. He hadn't needed to remember, so he didn't. Moments suddenly became important when someone was dead. He was lucky that 528 had had a lot of moments worth remembering.

The last thing 528 had said to him had been an insult, but she'd said it with a smile so he'd forgiven her immediately. She'd shaken her head and sounded exasperated. "Moron."

603 had given the order to move forward, all had seemed fine, it was a fairly standard mission, the ordinaries hadn't seen it coming and they'd surrounded pretty damn quick. Alec had said something about the soldier they'd come to retrieve, something about him being 528's type? It was definitely a stupid comment, one that would become his style on the outside.

Then the enemy had had back-up. It had always been a possibility and they were prepared for it. But someone had missed one guy. One guy, one shot and 528 was gone.

In all honesty Alec thought it would have hurt more.

One person's life boiled down to tiny pieces of time. Time as a name was taken by an anomaly. Patient as a rock and resembled one too. Tiny was out as well. Some idiot had named a giant of a transgenic Tiny. Alec didn't find it as amusing as some of the others. Some people should not be allowed to give people names. He'd voiced this opinion to Mole, who only agreed after a group had come in, for some reason they'd decided to name themselves after the characters in Star Trek. Spock had acquired a pet dog which was called Tribble.

528 probably would have mocked Star Trek, but watched it willingly. Biggs had worked with her for an extended deep cover once, he'd complained that she watched too much late night television. 528 had adored the insanity of Hogan's Heroes, although she disliked Colonel Hogan mostly on principle. But there was no way in hell he was naming her after anyone in that show, not civilian enough and he'd read too much about the real fate of POWs in some wars.

But he liked thinking of her that way, curled up in a cushioned chair, maybe in civilian clothes with barefeet, darkness outside the window, but 528's face lit in the changeable light from the TV. In his mind she'd always had a colour TV, and occasionally popcorn or chips to hurl at the screen during offensive scenes. Not that Alec had ever done that. Even though Biggs had been the one to tell him about it, Alec had never left a space for him in his mental picture. Maybe now he should. Alec spared his own chair a glance. 528 and Biggs could fight over the remote, he supposed. She would have liked the company.

Alec stared out the window at the rain again. He knew it wouldn't last forever, at least logically he did, but it felt like it would. He wouldn't mind if it did rain forever. The weather matched the way he felt about the world, caged inside and grey. He'd always considered freedom a relative concept. Sure, free to do whatever you wanted, including starve to death, or to be killed by other people who had the freedom to kill you if they felt like it. Liberty was a dumb name for a person, even if he knew both were dead.

528 had liked blowing stuff up, the intricacy and precision of building complex explosives had appealed to her. Sometimes she'd had the attention span of a three year old riding high on caffeine and sugar, but for explosions she'd had the patience of a saint. C4 would have fitted, if not for the similarity to a designation. Dynamite would have been good, long fused and slightly unpredictable. It could be shortened to Dyna, which was okay. But being called dynamite would take some living up to. 528 wouldn't have minded being Termina City's bomb maker, if they ever needed one. A transgenic called Splat was rumoured to be practising, just in case, which explained why a seemingly sturdy building had collapsed a week ago.

If 528 had picked her own name Alec would have bet that she'd change it several times before settling on one. A slightly traditional name like Kathy in the morning and then something like Scooby-Doo by lunch, especially on a Saturday. If she liked late night TV, Saturday morning cartoons would have been her style too. Alec wished he had the nerve to ask 603 if he thought 528 would have liked Scooby-Doo. But she was definitely not a Daphne. Definitely not movie Daphne. Alec grinned at the idea of someone trying to unmask a transhuman like they were the bad guy of the week on Scooby-Doo. They'd probably get shot or at the least beat up for it. It could be worth it to see the look on someone's face, but only if they got the reference.

Scooby might have been an alright name, if 528 had had a more obvious or silly sense of humour. 528's humour was dry, so dry that a desert seemed flooded by comparison.

Silly, almost slapstick humour had been left to 817. They'd thought he was joking when he'd fallen and lain so still. It took too long for someone to realise he wasn't teasing. 817 had treated life and death as a joke. Alec thought he would have liked his death if he'd been able to watch. No one else had.

They'd ridden in a different truck than 528 after she's been shot that day. "What do you think they'll do with them?" 603 had asked just loud enough for him to hear.

"Who?"

"The ones who die."

Until then the idea of what they did with the dead soldiers hadn't bothered them. Dead X5s just, went away. There was an area set so far back from the main compound that it was nearly in the woods with barcodes set into the ground like a graveyard, but none of them had ever believed anyone was buried there.

Ordinaries buried their dead, or cremated them to have in jars that gathered dust in relatives houses. Alec had seen mass graves where people had been hurriedly buried. Graves like that were the ones no one was meant to know about.

Ordinaries used to seem overly obsessive about dead bodies to him. He and the others had swapped stories of relatives demanding to know where their brother/father/cousin/sister/aunt was. The answer was simple once. They were dead, that's where they were. The corpse was for others to deal with.

Now it mattered. He knew what 603 had wanted to know. Would they cut her open and sew her organs back into other soldiers? Was there a mass grave of Manticore soldiers somewhere? Rachel had somewhere for people to go, even if he wasn't meant to, why didn't they? It might be an idea to bring up in the next meeting, or to try to get someone else to bring up. A memorial or something for everyone who ever died, escaping or otherwise. Max would go for the idea in a heartbeat, though where the hell they'd put it he didn't know. He wouldn't want to walk past it every day.

603 would like that. They had a list of everyone living in Terminal City, why not a list of those who didn't get a chance to? All that was left of them was remembered moments. If he and 603 died, who'd remember that 528 had ever lived at all? She deserved something tangible that proved that she did.

He'd rather that she'd been cremated than dumped in a mass grave, He hoped they'd put her among the trees. He'd told 603 that's what they'd do with her. It was probably a lie, but he liked the idea of spending eternity under trees. Or in a bar, either worked. No, could he have a TV? With cable? And a cushy chair. The place he'd imagined for Biggs and 528 would be nice. Eternity with friends and TV.

Read and Review if you have time.


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